engage telemarketers in friendly but futile conversation

to the sweet boy who was trying to sell me air duct cleaning. The poor fool had no way of knowing I’d just become the proud owner of a new vacuum, and wasn’t about to let ANYBODY clean anything those hoses could reach.

But I was determined to tell him no nicely. Which I did. And the little fella took it so nicely, that I proposed.

He hung up.

Oh, well. One less man-slave for my vineyard, I guess :)

It gets good.

I was getting ready to leave my house this afternoon, and I realized that the Who had unlaced my running shoes. I set about to hunting for the missing lace, when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mrs. K*?” (mispronounced, of course.)

“Uh, there’s no one here by that name.”

“Are you the head of your household?”

“Yes, I am, and my daughter just hid my shoelace from me and I’m in kind of a hurry to get going, and I can’t find it anywhere…you haven’t seen it, have you?”

“Um…I’m sorry, ma’am…you must be confused. I’m calling from [Company X] about your phone bill…would you—”

“I know, but I figured that maybe you’d seen them. They’re red, with a white pinstripe running down the middle. Seen ‘em anywhere?”

“Uh, no ma’am…I can’t see in your house…”

“Damn…double damn…well, call back when you’ve found my laces. Thanks.”

Huh. I really am strange, aren’t I?

that she had a very pleasant voice. I asked her if she’d ever done voiceover work. She said no.

I think it creeped her out a bit. Eh, the price you pay for being nice.